The Debt & the Doormat (31 page)

‘Poppy!’ Izzy claps excitedly as it stops on me.  Oh crap.

I look up at Ryan and feel breathless, my heart pumping hard in my chest.  How the hell am I going to do this?  Is my breath OK?  My head starts thumping as a million questions go racing through my mind.  Grace looks disgusted and gets up to walk into the kitchen. 

He leans back behind Izzy and I go behind her too, glad of the privacy her small body will provide.

For a second I forget about everyone else in the room.  It’s just me and him looking at each other, as nervous as could be.  His burning eyes lock with mine, releasing their full power on me, turning my legs to jelly.  When that mesmerising gaze drops to my lips I lose my balance, falling slightly to the right.  He flashes his gleaming smile, dazing me momentarily before I lean in a bit further, taking an unsteady breath.

He leans his head in until he’s close enough for me to smell his sweet breath.  My own breathing is erratic, short spurts of breath making me almost choke.  My mouth is almost turning numb from the nerves and my stomach’s full of flutters.  He takes my face in his hands and draws my mouth up to his.  I close my eyes, melting into it.

His plump lips meet mine, so soft and yet firm.  His silky palms against my cheeks make me want to feel those strong hands moving all over my body, one slow inch at a time.  I hear both of us take a sharp intake of breath through our noses and then he ever so slowly parts his lips, poking his tongue onto mine for just a second, then taking it back out.  He continues to tease me with the pleasure he’s withholding.  I tremble.  He kisses me harder.  He pushes his hands into my hair, my whole body shivering from the pleasure.  His hands move down to my neck, his thumbs circling small patterns.  I let myself get lost in it. 

The kiss goes on until I feel I’m going to melt with the heat roaring through my body, and we’re both gasping for breath.  He slowly pulls away and when I open my eyes I’m still in a daze, everything around me seeming fuzzy. 

‘Wow,’ I whisper before I can help it.

He smiles at me, his lips red.  I try to pull myself together but I just can't stop staring at him. 

‘Wow.  That was hot!’ Izzy chuckles.

Ryan gets up and walks into the kitchen.  I sit still, trying to regain consciousness. 

‘OK, we’ll leave Poppy out for now,’ Izzy says, laughing at me as I sit there still in a dream world. 

I get up, my legs still like jelly and decide I’ll get a beer from the kitchen.  And if Ryan just so happens to be there, so be it.  I walk through the doorway and stop in my tracks as I see him cornered by Grace, her hands on his face.  Kissing him.

Oh my God.  Oh my fucking God.  OK, try not to react.  Just quickly get the hell out of here and pretend you haven’t seen it.  Go somewhere where you can cry over your broken heart.  I turn hastily and in the process knock over a glass on the worktop, it smashing into a million pieces on the floor.  Damn it!  Why am I such a klutz! 

Ryan pulls away and turns to look at me, his eyes wide with horror.

‘Oops.’ I look anywhere but at him. 

I bend over to pick up the pieces, covering my face with my hair so that I can't see them anymore.  Ryan bends down and tries to help me, collecting the remaining glass into his hand as Grace stares on from behind him, her arms crossed. 

Why can't he just leave me alone?  Why does he keep doing this to me?  Grace was right all along.  He’s been leading me on just for a bit of entertainment.  He thinks I’m a joke.  He’s been laughing with Grace about me behind my back.  The two of them, rolling back and forth in bed naked, their bodies crushed against each other as they relay the latest ridiculous thing I’ve done. 

‘OK...well, sorry for interrupting,’ I mumble before turning sharply and running out of the room into my bedroom, just as the tears begin to fall.    

The next morning I’m still recovering from my loss.  For I have lost my lovely dream world where I fantasised that Ryan was secretly in love with me.  He’s not in love with me.  Of course he’s not.  He’s barely friends with me, and what did I expect?  Honestly, did I expect him to just ignore the charms of Gorgeous Grace and settle on little old boring me?  I feel so foolish for even wishing that were true.   

He thinks I’m a joke.  Well I’ll show him what a joke I am.  I’ll show him how fabulous I can be.  No more pushover Poppy.  At least today I’m having my stitches taken out.  I am so ready to have these out!  I can't begin to tell you how they’ve interfered with my cleansing routine.  They itch so badly and seem to gloat up at me every time I look at them, reminding me that Gorgeous Grace always wins. 

I’m nearly fully dressed when Jazz flashes up on my mobile.

‘Hey hun.’

‘Pops, I’m so sorry, but I’m not gonna be able to go to the doctors with you today.’

‘What?  You were supposed to be my moral support so I didn’t act like a complete baby!’ I shriek, panicking. 

‘I know!  I know!  I’m so sorry, but I’ve got a last minute interview.’

‘Interview?  What for?’

‘It's just...for something else.  I can't really say much about it.  Anyway, are you sure you’ll be OK without me?’

‘Yeah, that's OK.  Don't worry about it,’ I lie. 

I mean, why couldn’t she have told me this last night?  She’s known since Monday about this appointment and she only knows to tell me this at 8am in the morning?  And why the mystery about the interview?  She’s not normally so secretive.   

‘Are you sure babe?’

‘Yeah, honestly it's fine.  I’ve gotta go, love you.’

‘Love you too.  Call me later.’

Great – now I have to go by myself.  Why the hell couldn’t she be more responsible – just for once!? 

I wander into the kitchen and hover over the cereals, not really feeling brave enough to eat.  The truth is that I’m terrified to have them out.  I mean, even thinking about it gives me the creeps.  I don't even know how they’re gonna do it.  I tried to Google it but I couldn’t bear to watch any of the videos that flashed up.   

‘Hey Pops,’ Ryan says, walking in with a devastatingly handsome suit on, his hair still wet from the shower. 

How can he act normal?  Like nothing’s happened.  And calling me Pops.  How dare he shorten my name! 

‘Hi,’ I say trying to act natural and not like the spoilt brat I want to be.

What I really want to do is run over and punch him hysterically and scream ‘why don't you love me!?’  But I have a feeling that would be slightly pathetic and needy.

‘So...today’s the day then’ he says with a warm smile.

How can he act so normal?  He’s a heartless arsehole.

‘Yep.  After today I’ll be normal again.’

‘Well...I wouldn’t go that far,’ he says, with a wicked grin.

‘Gee, thanks.’

‘So, what time you meeting Jazz?’ he asks, pouring himself out some cereal.

It really does escape me how someone can manage to eat coco pops as much as he does and still manage to keep a fit physique.  Not that I’m looking at his body.  Not anymore.   

‘Oh...I’m just on my way to meet her now,’ I lie. 

I don't want his pity.  I’m starting my new fabulous me today.  No more Poppy the joke.

‘Morning Pops,’ Izzy says, bounding into the room, a ball of her usual energy.  ‘Jazz just called me and explained.  I’d totes go with you, but I’m already running late for a client.’

I stare at her, trying to explain with my eyes that she’s totally blown my cover.

‘What?’ she asks innocently as she peels a banana.  ‘Anyway, good luck.’

She runs out of the house and I turn begrudgingly to face Ryan and his accusing gaze.

‘You better get going.  You don't want to miss Jazz,’ he says sarcastically.

‘Ok, OK, I lied!  I just didn’t want you feeling sorry for me.  I’m totally fine to go by myself.’

‘You are funny,’ he says, amusement all over his face.  ‘But it's your lucky day.  I’ve got a late meeting this morning and I’ve got my blackberry with me, so I can go with you.’

‘Really?  I mean...no, I’ll be fine.  I’m fine, but thanks.’

‘Pops, stop being stubborn and pretending to be brave.  I can tell you’re shitting it.  It's all over your face.  You’re even paler than usual.’

‘Oh thanks,’ I say rolling my eyes.

‘Just shut up and let me come with you, OK.’

I stare at him for a moment, trying to work out his hidden agenda, but the truth is that I could really do with someone being there while I wee my pants.

‘OK,’ I say reluctantly, feeling like a pathetic baby.  If my brothers could only see me now, they’d laugh their arses off.

*                            *                            *

‘So...once I get them taken out I can just act like normal again?’ I ask the extremely hairy male doctor.

‘Yes, although do still try and take it easy.  The last thing you want is for the skin to come apart again,’ he says, smiling warmly.

How can I trust this man?  I mean, first of all he looks like a werewolf, with the most body hair I’ve ever seen on anyone.  His thick black hair is escaping from the sleeves of his shirt, running down to his fingernails which are too long.  Plus he’s got a worryingly thick gold chain round his neck with a gold hoop earring in one ear.  I mean, are you allowed to be a doctor and have an earring?  Isn’t it one of those unspoken rules?  And which ear is it that tells people you’re gay? 

‘Oh, OK,’ I say as I begin to feel myself tremble.  Don't panic Pops.  This is going to be over so quickly.  It's not going to hurt at all.

‘Right, let’s get on with it then,’ he says, taking my face with his weird werewolf fingers. 

I try not to show how visibly repulsed I am.  He picks up some weird looking scissors and starts coming towards me with them.

‘And, will I have to put any special cream on?’ I ask, pulling myself away from him.

‘No, back to normal,’ he says, with a flash of irritation.  He leans in again.

‘And!  How long have you been a doctor?’ I ask, my voice a squeak. 

I mean, maybe he’s just a crazy person that's broken in off the streets and put on a doctors jacket.  Yes!  That's it, that's why he’s got an earring.  He’s not a doctor at all, he’s a con artist.  A gay con artist!

He looks back up rubbing his face wearily and sighs.

‘Pops, maybe you should just let him get it over and done with, hmm?’ Ryan says, taking hold of my hand, his warm touch making me quiver.  ‘I’m sure it's pain free...right doctor?’

‘Oh yes.  You’ll barely feel a thing.’

‘Barely?  So I
will
feel something?’

Oh my God.  It's going to kill.  What if I pass out from the pain?

‘Barely anything at all,’ he reassures.

Ryan looks at me, raising his eyebrows as if to communicate that I’m being ridiculous.  I cannot be ridiculous.  I’m fabulous Poppy now.  Fabulous Poppy is brave like Tarzan.  She rips the stitches out with her teeth!  But obviously I wouldn’t do that.  Oh God, I shudder just from the image.

‘OK,’ I say reluctantly as my breathing grows erratic.  ‘OK, you can do it.’

‘Maybe don't look at it while I’m doing it,’ Doctor Werewolf says, as he takes my head again and I begin to hyperventilate.

I stare at him, feeling completely overwhelmed.  At least when I had the stitches I was a bit pissed.  This is full on sober and the thought of what's about to happen is making my skin crawl.  The urge to just run straight out of this office and never come back is overwhelming.  But then what would that achieve?  I can't have these stitches in my face forever.  Can I? 

I just hope he isn’t pissed.  You hear about drunk doctors all the time.  And I mean, what if he takes them out wrong and my face is scarred horrifically forever?  I’ll be in one of those weekly magazines with a headline like ‘Doctor butchered my face, now I can't find anyone to love me’.  God I can see it.  I’ll be surrounded by all of the cats I’ve had to buy.  And they’ll be weird looking cats, with one eye, and three legs and hacked off tails, because I’ll have related to their odd looks.  I’ll have understood what they were going through. 

‘Just look at me Pops,’ Ryan says, swivelling my head to face him.

I look up at his big brown eyes and feel myself calm as I look into the deepness of them.  I’ve never realised before, but up close the colour around his pupil is lighter, almost a whisky colour.  They’re so beautiful, especially surrounded by his long eyelashes and bushy eyebrows.  I try to concentrate on just this while I feel some pulling on my face.  Just imagine it's an eyebrow wax.  Don't think about it.  Don't think about the gay werewolf doctor pulling stitches out of your face.

‘There we go; good as new,’ Doctor Werewolf says, breaking me from Ryan’s stare.

‘What?’ I say feeling my face.  ‘It's done?’

I thought it would take at least half an hour.

‘Yes, as easy as that,’ Doctor Werewolf smiles.

‘Well thank God that's over,’ Ryan says, sighing with relief.  ‘I thought it was going to be awful.’

‘What?  You weren’t saying that a minute ago!’

‘Well,
obviously
.  Would you have gone through with it otherwise?’

‘Well...I suppose not.’

‘Exactly.’

‘I just don't like being lied to, that's all,’ I say defensively, crossing my arms across my chest.

‘Oh really?  It's a good thing I’m not so sensitive isn’t it?’

The doctor stares at us both confused. 

‘You can go now Poppy.  Just make sure to keep it clean and come back if you get any severe itchiness or swelling.’

‘OK thanks,’ I say as we get up to leave.

The minute we’re out of the door I turn to Ryan again, still confused by what he said.

‘What did you mean?  When have I lied to you?’

He’s got a cheek.  The way he’s been confusing me lately.

‘Oh please!  Let’s make a list shall we?  You lied about being Jazz’s cousin from Spain, then about Jazz coming with you this morning.  It begs the question what else you’ve lied about?’

‘Well...’

‘Exactly!’ he says, muffling a snicker.

‘I thought I was a good actress,’ I say, a little laugh escaping.

‘I may be pretty, but I’m not dumb,’ he says, cocking his eyebrows at me. 

‘I wouldn’t even say pretty,’ I say before he digs me playfully in the ribs.

‘So, are you going back to work?’ he asks.

‘Yep.  Victor won't be able to drink coffee without me.  It's a very important role I have you know.’

‘I can see that,’ he says, playing along.  ‘I could always...’

‘What?  You could always what?’ I ask, a little too desperately. 

‘Well, it's a nice day.  I could always walk you to work.  Your office is only a few tube stops from mine.’

He wants to spend time with me?!

‘Yeah OK,’ I say as casually as I can, but in my panic to try and act like a normal human being, I end up dropping my handbag, all of the contents spilling out onto the pavement.

‘Shit.’  I crouch down to pick them up.

He crouches down too and starts picking things up for me.  God I’ve got a lot of crap in this bag, I really must clear it out when I get home.  Oh my God.  I notice my thrush cream on the floor next to him.  Ok, don't panic.  Just quickly lean forward and pick it up and he won't even notice.

I take a quick deep breath and reach my hand out to the cream.  I’m nearly there and he hasn’t even noticed yet.  Thank God, this is going to be fine.  He’s still picking up random bits of eye make-up. 

‘Oh, let me get that,’ he says, reaching for the cream.

Oh my God.  If he picks it up, if he even removes my hand from above it, he’ll see the words.  He’ll think I’ve got thrush.  And he’s a man – he probably doesn’t even really know what thrush is – he’ll just assume that it's a terrible sexually transmitted disease.  He’ll just assume that I’m a horrible nasty slut and if there was ever the smallest possibility of him fancying me, it will be ruined forever.  Forever when he thinks of me images of a spotty vagina will flash into his mind and he’ll vomit.

‘Noooooooo!’ I shout, leaping for it.

I dive for it, but in my panic fall and manage to take him down with me.  I look up to see that I’m basically straddling him on the pavement.  Oh God, people are starring and he’s looking at me like I’m insane.  But the main thing is that I have the thrush cream.  It's in my hand.

‘Whoops,’ I grimace.

‘Poppy, what the hell?’  He pushes me back.

‘Sorry.  I....I lost my balance.’

‘Really?’ he asks raising his eyebrow.  ‘Why did you shout “no” then?’

‘Um...just because...I knew I was falling.’